


Angry Bits of Broken Dreams

by SpiritsFlame



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Angst, Gen, M/M, boys having emotions, episode response, everyone is sad
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-07-31
Updated: 2012-07-31
Packaged: 2017-11-11 03:34:21
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,333
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/474055
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SpiritsFlame/pseuds/SpiritsFlame
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Derek can barely breathe around the shards of all the things he's gotten wrong. </p><p>Direct response to episode 2x10.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Angry Bits of Broken Dreams

**Author's Note:**

> Title taken from the Carbon Leaf song 'Meltdown'.

Derek staggers through the charred, broken doors of the Hale house. He can barely see in front of him, barely breathe.   
  
The beams of the house creak in the wind, echoing with ghosts and memories. Alone. Alone. This big empty house used to be so full of people, so full of life.  
  
He knows that he shouldn’t be here, knows that there are Hunters after him. Like they always have been lately. Like they always will be. No escape, no end, just this terrible aching,  lonely run.   
  
He feels more like an omega than an alpha, the pull of his betas, of his Pack is so faint. All he can feel is the gaping, empty hole where his entire life used to be.  
  
He shouldn't be here, shouldn’t let himself be so weak, so exposed. But for a moment he just needs to let the memories surround him. Back when this house was whole and bustling, back when he had family. Back when he had something  _real_ .  
  
He sinks to the floor in what used to be the kitchen, back to the wall and struggles for air. So goddamn weak, so fucking  _useless_ , it’s not wonder no one will stick by him.  
  
It’s hard to believe that just hours ago he was standing here, preparing himself to trust again. To trust Scott. God, he was just so desperate to have the kind of Pack he remembered, all love and trust and undying faith in one another.  
  
Back before he ruined it. God, it’s all his fault. Is this his punishment, his retribution for getting his entire family killed? Forever alone, destined to be an omega. A lone wolf, driven mad by his own grief and loneliness.  
  
Sometimes he feels like he’s walking that edge, feels the loneliness like a sucking void.   
  
Derek closes his eyes and lets his head thump back against the hard wood of the wall. He’d thought that maybe, just maybe, he could trust Scott.  
  
Scott, who had proved himself to be unfailingly loyal to his own Pack. And Derek had thought maybe he could have that, too, could be worthy of that loyalty.   
  
He had been stupid. As fucking usual. Like Scott would ever choose him over doing anything and everything to help Allison.   
  
And Stiles. So Derek had thought maybe he could have Stiles too. Have Stiles in his Pack, his humor and his loyalty and his unflinching desire to do the right thing. He had wanted it all. And it was all a lie. Again. Just another way to get close to Derek, just to betray him.  
  
As usual. Derek Hale, first class sucker. Give him a few compliments, do him a favor and he’ll roll over like a stupid puppy. He’ll bare his soft stomach to anyone with a smile, and a blade ready to sink between his ribs.  
  
Derek tilts his head to the sky and howls.   
  
No one answers him.  
  
He didn’t expect them too.  
  
\--  
  
Derek makes it back to the new den before the sun rises. He hates it here, hates that he has to hide, hates that this place reeks of mold and stale air. It’s like a cliche hide-out from a bad werewolf movie, when he used to live in a house in the woods. He can’t run in here, can’t feel the moon, or the sun on his face. He can’t even hear the wind in the trees, and it’s like being enclosed in a tomb.  
  
He calls it a den because it’s better than hovel.  
  
He’s not surprised that no one’s there. His betas have their own lives and families. Or, at least Erica and Boyd do. He doesn’t know where Isaac is and he feels a pang of concern.  
  
He reaches down the too-faint bond of alpha to beta and can tell that they’re all safe, all unharmed from the days events. It’s more than he can say for himself.  
  
He thinks about calling them, but how much can he trust them, really? There’s a new Alpha out there now. Derek might be able to pull their strings, but what’s to say that they won’t find Peter’s charisma a more promising lure than an angry, lonely man who has yet to give them the life he promised.  
  
\--  
  
Derek’s three betas find him anyway, rushing into the hideout with wide-eyes and racing hearts.  
  
“Did you hear about the Sheriff’s department?” Isaac asks. “Everyone’s dead!”  
  
“Everyone?” Derek demands, cold and sharp because he had left people alive there. Both Stilinskis and Scott’s mother who didn’t deserve to be drawn into this drama. And even Scott himself, who didn’t warrant his consideration but got it anyway.  
  
“All the deputies who were on duty,” Boyd corrects, looking calmly inscrutable despite the heartbeat they can all hear.  
  
“Stiles is fine,” Erica offers. She flushes slightly, he can feel it. “I swung by his house on my way here. To make sure.” She tilts her chin up defensively. “I thought you’d want to know.”  
  
“I don’t care!” Derek snaps, angry that he did want to know, and angry that he’d been so obvious.   
  
Boyd gives him a scrutinising look. “You were there,” he says flatly.  
  
“Yes.”  
  
“Tell us.”  
  
So Derek does. He tells them that Matt controls the kanima, that the Argents were really and truly out for war. He tells them that Matt might be turning into a kanima himself, and about the deputies he’d seen killed.  
  
He thinks about the one he’d flirted with, who’d opened up for a smile and a compliment and he feels sick.   
  
He tells them about Peter and what that will mean for the Pack. They promise to stay with him, no matter what. They’re telling the truth.  
  
Scott was telling the truth when he said he wanted to join the Pack. It just meant something different to both of them. Truth is only varying degrees of interpretation. He learns that more and more each day.  
  
He doesn’t tell them about Scott. It won’t help.   
  
\--  
  
The worst part about Beacon Hills is the way everything goes back to normal. At least six people are dead. Derek feels like he’s shaking apart and life moves on.   
  
It had been like that after the fire. His entire world was gone and to the rest of the world it’s business as usual. Beacon Hills keeps its secrets close. Derek knows that all too well.  
  
He always seems to be on the wrong end of it.   
  
The others go to school. He figures they’re safer there, surrounded by people than they are here.  
  
They protest, but he wonders how much of it is out of loyalty and how much is what they think they should act like. They’ve never had to chose the Pack over something that matters. Now he doubts that the Pack would be their choice.  
  
He doubts everything now.  
  
\--  
  
Scott comes back to the den with the rest of his Pack and Derek has to fight back a whine. He shouldn’t be surprised. Scott doesn’t know that Derek knows. What reason does he have to stay away.   
  
Derek wants to howl, wants to throw things and yell at Scott to get out.  
  
He bites his tongue. He needs Scott. God help him, he does. There are too many enemies and Gerard Argent is just one of them. He needs help against the kanima, against Peter. And Scott’s betrayal is like acid on cuts that have barely healed, but he can’t let that matter right now. He has the others, his beta’s to think about.  
  
“Where’s your sidekick?” Derek snarls, unable to help himself. The thought that Stiles might be-- must be--in on it hurts just as much, if only because he had thought he knew Stiles. Stiles was an open book, was somehow always there when Derek needed help and the thought of all that being fake is sickening. What else is he wrong about?  
  
Scott won’t meet his eyes. “He’s at the hospital.”   
  
Derek’s heart actually stops for a second. He knew he should have checked up on him, shouldn’t have left him alone. He had trusted Scott to get Stiles out of there, but it seems that when Allison Argent is in the picture he can’t even trust Scott for that. Then Derek reminds himself that he shouldn’t even care anymore.   
  
“With his dad!” Scott hastens to add, reading something in Derek’s face. “He hit his head pretty bad. Stiles has been there all day.”  
  
Derek tries to get his stupid, god so stupid, emotions under control. “And your mom?”  
  
Scott flinches. “She’s fine.”  
  
There’s something more, something that Scott isn’t saying. Derek doesn’t pry, like he would with the others. Scott isn’t Pack anymore, not really. It was all a lie.   
  
“We need to decide what to do about Matt,” he begins.  
  
Scott’s head jerks up, looking at him at last. “You don’t know?”  
  
“Know what?” Derek snaps.  
  
“Matt’s dead,” Isaac says. “They found his body in the river this morning.”  
  
“They say he drowned,” Erica adds. Scott flinches weirdly, face tight. Derek shoots him a look but doesn’t say anything.   
  
Derek tries not to put his head in his hands. Don’t show weakness. Don’t let them see how helpless he feels.   
  
“I’ll think this over,” he says. “You should leave.”  
  
Scott leaves. The others stay. Derek doesn’t know what to make of anything anymore.  
  
\--  
  
According to Erica, source of all news Stilinski, Stiles is back in school the next day. He looks pale and tired, but present.  
  
“He’s quiet,” she reports, sounding sad. Derek doesn’t even know what that would look like. He doesn’t think he wants to find out.  
  
He doesn’t think he ever wants to see Stiles again.   
  
\--  
  
Because Stiles lives to do everything Derek doesn’t want him to do (keeps talking, keeps moving closer, keeps saving him, keeps getting too fucking close) he comes by the den the next day.  
  
Just seeing him makes Derek want to throw up.  
  
Just seeing him makes him smell fire and taste ash. It’s what happened last time someone got this close.  
  
Stiles throws down his backpack and puts his hands on his hip. “What can I do to help?”   
  
Derek feels his lips curl into a sneer and he can’t remember the last time he felt this out of control.  
  
“You want to help?” It comes out cold and bitter. It’s better than needy and hopeful.  
  
Stiles fidgets on his feet. “I need to do something. People are dying and I’m just-” he swallows, fists clenched at his side, “useless.” He spits the word like something dirty, voice heavy with self-loathing.  
  
It makes Derek want to comfort him, to correct him and he hates himself for that, for being so weak yet again. Just a puppy who’ll roll over for a kind smile. For Stiles’ smile. For Kate’s smile.  
  
“Why don’t you go see if the Argents have any work for you to do?” It’s out before he can stop it and Derek curses himself for letting it slip.  
  
“What?” Stiles sounds honestly confused and Derek is thrown for a second.  
  
“Nothing. Just get out of here, Stiles.”  
  
Stiles, god damn him, never listens. He takes a step closer instead. “I’m not leaving until I have something I can do. My dad-” He cuts himself off. “I can’t fight. But I can help. Let me help. Please.”   
  
“No, Stiles.”  
  
“What did you mean, about the Argents?”  
  
Derek barks out a harsh laugh. “Like you don’t know.”  
  
“I honestly have no idea what you’re talking about, dude. Last I heard, the Argents were werewolf enemy numero uno. I’ve been staying clear of them lately. Even Allison.”  
  
“And Scott?”   
  
Stiles cocks his head. “Well, that’s more like she’s avoiding him, but I think my point stands.”  
  
Derek rounds on him. “I know, OK, Stiles? You and Scott don’t have to play happy little werewolf family anymore!”  
  
“What the hell are you talking about?” Stiles shouts. “What is wrong with you right now?”  
  
What’s wrong with him. God, Derek can’t even begin. He feels sick. He feels angry and humiliated and so tired of this stupid charade. “I’m talking about your secret little pact with Gerard Argent. About how you come play happy Pack with me and then go report everything to the Hunters.”  
  
Stiles stares at him. “What? No. Scott wouldn’t-” He stops.   
  
Derek stares at him. “Don’t act like you didn’t know.”  
  
“I didn’t!” Stiles yells. His heart is racing. His heart is usually racing around Derek, and Derek can’t tell the lies from the truth anymore. Stiles presses the heels of his hands against his forehead. “I can’t believe he would-”  
  
“Get out, Stiles!” Derek shouts. He can feel his teeth lengthening, feel the shift coming on him. He feels sick with confusion, torn in so many ways he can hardly keep it together anymore. It’s weak, he knows it’s weak, but he justs wants Stiles out of here. Wants him to leave and take his stupid face and his stupid emotions with him.  
  
Stiles falls quiet so fast it should be funny. It’s not funny. Derek is abruptly aware that while he’s yelled at Stiles before, slammed him around and lost his temper, he’s never flashed fang on him. He’s never lost control before.  
  
“I don’t want you here!” he yells, when Stiles just stands there.   
  
Stiles isn’t a wolf, he won’t hear the lie.   
  
Stiles grabs his bag and leaves. Derek pretends like he’s glad to see him go.  
  
He’s getting good at pretending.  
  
\--  
  
It’s only coincidence that gets him out of the den the next day. Beacon Hills isn’t safe for him anymore, but he can’t leave and he can’t hide.  
  
He’s fairly sure that Scott and Stiles will both have lacrosse practice, so he takes the chance to drive-by the Stilinski household. He doesn’t want to admit it, to anyone, ever, but he wants to check and make sure the former sheriff is OK.  
  
He can’t say he likes him, the man who’s put him under arrest and made him a fugitive of the law, but he means something to Stiles, and stupidly, that makes him mean something to Derek. Besides, regardless of whatever feelings he may or may not have, he doesn’t want the man dead.  
  
The plan was to make a quick drive-by, listen for a strong, healthy heart-beat and drive away. What he gets is raised voices--shouts that he can hear from his car.  
  
He’s about to move on regardless when he hears his own name and he stops.  
  
“-you could even do this!” Stiles is yelling.  
  
“It’s not like I had a choice!” It’s Scott he’s yelling at then. Well. Derek doesn’t know how to take that.  
  
“You always have a choice!” Stiles shouts. “And you usually make the stupidest possible choice in every situation. You make bad choices that I didn’t even know were on the table!”  
  
“He was going to help us! We needed help against the kanima!”  
  
“Derek was going to help us against the kanima! Remember him, the Alpha you promised to help? You said you were in his fucking Pack, Scott!”  
  
“And I am.” Scott’s voice drops a register, down to his usual volume. “I just, you know, also talk to Allison’s grandfather. He promised he’d keep her safe.”  
  
“Yeah, how’s that working for you, champ?” Stiles asks.   
  
“I don’t even know what’s going on anymore,” Scott admits, soft and quiet.  
  
“Do you even know what Pack means, Scott?” Stiles asks. In contrast to Scott, his voice is harder. He plows on before Scott can talk. “It means protecting each other. Like when Derek told you to get me to safety. Like how the first thing he did was go make sure my dad and your mom were safe. And you, you just, you just. Augh! I don’t even have words for what you did.”  
  
“It was just to beat the kanima,” Scott protests weakly.   
  
“Yeah? And when the Hunters decided they wanted to go after Derek, you would just what? Back down and let them?”  
  
“I didn’t think-”  
  
“You never think, Scott!” Stiles is back to the yelling. “Can you even imagine what Derek must think right now? You and the others are all he has. In the world, Scott! Do you get that? Is that getting through your stupid head right now? There are four people Derek can trust and he just found out one of them is a traitor. What did you think that would do to him?”  
  
Derek can’t listen to this anymore. He can’t do this. He starts up the engine to the car. God, he just needs to get out of here.  
  
“I didn’t-” Scott begins again.  
  
Stiles sighs. “I know. I just. I can’t even look at you right now.”  
  
Scott sucks in a sharp breath and Derek can hear his heart trip into double time. “Stiles. Are you-”  
  
“I’m not saying I won’t be your friend, I’m not saying I won’t help you. But right now, I just can’t stand your face. So just, leave. Climb out through the window and take your werewolf ass somewhere else.”  
  
Derek puts the car into drive and speeds off. His hands shake on the wheel. He doesn’t know what to do about that either.  
  
\--  
  
Stiles shows up at the den again the next day.   
  
Derek just stares at him, silent.  
  
Stiles fidgets on his feet. “I know you don’t want me here.”   
  
Wrong, Derek thinks. He crosses his arms and doesn’t say anything.  
  
“I just, I don’t have. I need something to do. And,” he huffs a laugh, sounding fake and insincere, “as it turns out I only have one friend. And we’re not speaking right now.”  
  
Derek uncrosses his arms and moves closer. Stiles heart rate picks up, but he stands his ground, meeting Derek’s eyes squarely.   
  
“I need you to look something up for me,” he says finally. Stiles breaths out like a gust of wind through the trees. His smile is like the sunshine that Derek has been missing so much.  
  
“I’m pretty good at looking things up,” he replies, grinning.  
  
“I know,” Derek says, feeling the ghost of a smile kick at the edges of his mouth. It almost hurts, too fragile and delicate. He wants to hide it away so that no one can see it, no one can hurt him with it. But then, maybe Stiles has always been there.  
  
Stiles swallows, and his heart is still racing too fast. “I know you said, at the pool, you said that you didn’t trust me. And that I didn’t trust you.” He ducks his head. “I’m not sure you’re right. I mean, I trust that you won’t hurt me. You always try to keep me safe. Even before yourself. That, that means something.”  
  
Derek swallows hard, feeling choked. It’s hard to breathe again. It’s like being back at the pool, water-locked and barely afloat. “Maybe it does,” he manages.   
  
Stiles smiles at him. “Alright then!” He moves past Derek, further into the den. “What was it that I have to look up?”  
  
“I have to tell you what else happened, last week. The night of the full moon.”  
  
“Oh my god, there’s more?” Stiles demands, sounding horrified.   
  
Derek shakes his head, because at least he can always count on Stiles to be Stiles. And while he’s not sure if that’s someone he can trust, he knows it’s someone he wants to.  
  
“Stiles,” he says, voice soft and serious. “How do I know I can trust you?”  
  
Stiles meets his eyes, clear and understanding. “You don’t. But I won’t give you a reason not to.”  
  
For now, that will have to be enough. Derek isn’t sure he’ll ever be able to fully trust people again.   
  
But he lets Stiles take a seat next to him, and he tells Stiles about Peter. And if he puts his hand on top of Stiles’ when he talks, that’s his own business.  
  
  
The End

**Author's Note:**

> I don't actually dislike Scott. I'm angry at him right now, but I get where he's coming from. I can see why he did it. However, I still think it was a poor idea and there's going to be some repercussions. 
> 
> I just want everyone to be friends.
> 
> \--
> 
> As always, thanks to the amazing Scarlettblush, who looks over my fics and doesn't complain about the fact that I can't spell to save my life.


End file.
